


Nightmares of Rust and Stars

by Hallianna



Series: The Detective and the Vault Dweller [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Friendship to Love, Gen, Slow Burn, nick is a giant ball of conflicting emotions, synth/human questions, what is human, what is humanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7459587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallianna/pseuds/Hallianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Nick sets a car on fire, Nina has a nightmare, and they both relive old, terrible memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares of Rust and Stars

If someone had told him six months ago that he’d be standing beside a two hundred year old gal watching a car fire burn bright and hot, he would have asked if they’d seen a doctor recently. **  
**

_Because even I know hallucinations are a sign of radiation poisoning._

They’d taken down the last of the raiders who’d been harassing a nearby farm. Everything had gone about as routine as a firefight with humans on the edge of the Wasteland could go when she’d yelled, “Nuke!”

He ducked on instinct and started to sprint west but she tackled him and rolled them both into a gap between the building’s collapsed walls.  Pinned beneath her, the tinney whistle of the nuke sailed over them.  She flinched, burying her face in his coat. “Just tell me when it’s over.”

The whistle faded quickly and the resounding boom of its impact rattled his frame.  He knew she felt it too, from the way she shuddered against him. Once the floor stopped vibrating, he gently prodded her shoulder and said, “I think it’s over, Nina.”

Nina lifted her head, eyes huge and glassy.  He felt her tremble, a shivering up the spine that had him concerned.   _She looks like she’s going into shock._  “I hate those things.”

“I don’t know too many people who like them,” he said quietly.  “I guess unless you’re the guy with the Fat Man.”

Despite her nerves she laughed.  He chuckled along with her.  “That guy is still out there,” she whispered.  “Maybe we should lay low until he moves on.”

“Or we could distract him, make a clean getaway instead of waiting for night,” he said, turning his head to look at their surroundings.  The building was a collapsed store of some kind.  Metal shelving and debris were scattered in every direction.  But even from his vantage point he could spot half a dozen things light enough to throw and get the nuke toting raider to go off hunting for a phantom noise.

He pointed to their left and said, “Live to fight another day.  What do you say?”

She took a deep breath like she was trying to steel herself against the thought of going up one more time against a nuke launcher.  But she nodded and rolled off him, springing to her feet and into a crouch.

It was an impressive show of athleticism, one he would have needed to be dead to ignore.  His memories of the real Nick Valentine recalled a man who was dedicated to his fiancé but before Jenny, he’d been like any other living, breathing, red-blooded man. Which meant a pretty girl walking down the sidewalk could turn his head.  And real Nick greatly appreciated pretty girls, especially ones with strong shoulders that could easily lift bags of groceries and muscled calves that peeked out from flowing skirts.

_But you’re not a real boy, Nick.  You need to remember that._

But it was damn hard to when a pretty gal who was stronger than most he knew was crouched not ten feet away, her armor not doing much to hide full hips and sturdy legs.

_Get a grip on yourself, Valentine.  Your lives are in danger….HER life is in danger._

“All right.  You stay here, guard this entrance,” he said smoothly as he kneeled beside her, his bad hand reaching for something in the dark.  “I’ll go out there and use this to distract him.”

She blinked a few times before saying, “Uh, Nick?  That’s a Giddyup Buttercup leg.”

“Yeah, I know.  Big enough to throw and make a noise, not so heavy that I can’t get it far enough away from us.”

She snickered, the sound soft in the dark shadows of their hideout.  “It’s just….

“What?” he grumbled, tossing the leg from one hand to the other.

She snickered again, the sound escaping in bursts between her tightly clamped lips.  “You-you look ridiculous.”

And she lost it, bent over, hands on her knees, tears running down her face. He didn’t get what was so funny, with a Fat Man carrying raider still out there. But she laughed until she couldn’t anymore and the stress that had marred her face earlier was gone. “Okay, okay.  Let’s go.  I want to get back to Sanctuary before dark.”

“Then we’d better double time it,” he said before leaving the shelter.  He looked around, trying to find the perfect spot to aim his projectile.  When he alighted on it, he narrowed his eyes and smiled.

_Bingo._

“Aye, aye, captain.”  She even gave him a little salute.

He shot her a look over his shoulder.  “Hey smart aleck, get ready.  Here he comes.”

The raider carrying the Fat Man was several hundred yards away, strolling through the underbrush with the lack of care granted by a big weapon. _Thinks he’s invincible, does he?  I’ll show him._

Nick wound up, his body recalling all those times the real Nick had been the pitcher for the police softball team, and let the leg fly.  It sailed, past the makeshift raider hovels and lookout posts and landed exactly where he’d aimed.

The thunk was audible, even at a distance.  The noise drew Nina closer and when she reached the doorway, she looked around Nick to see the raider and the Fat Man charge in a direction completely away from them.

“Let’s go,” she said softly.

He held up his good hand.  “Wait just a minute.  I want to see if this actually works.”

“If what works?”

He smirked.  “To see if he’s really that stupid.”

They watched in silence at the raider charged up a hill, head whipping back and forth as he searched for his prey.  He shifted from foot to foot, aiming the Fat Man this way and that...until he was aiming it back at them.

“I see I’m going to have to encourage the idiot,” Nick said, voice gravelly.  “You still got that scoped Terminator pistol?”

“Hell yes.  A sweet gun like that isn’t leaving my side.”

She pulled the heavy pistol from her belt and put it in Nick’s outstretched palm. He hefted it and took aim carefully.  “Easy does it,” he whispered, then pulled the trigger.

A single bullet tore through the woods and pinged off the Giddyup Buttercup leg he’d thrown on top of a car roof.  The raider whirled back to the car, took two steps, and fired the Fat Man.

The mini nuke sailed into the car and exploded, taking out the car and the building behind it.  At that moment, the raider must have realized his mistake because he began to backpedal quickly.

But not fast enough.

That explosion set the nearby cars on fire.  Doors and hoods and even whole vehicles went skyward, the force of the explosion rocking the ground they stood on. The cars with gas in them only - literally - added fuel to the fire, a chain reaction of death that caught up quickly to the unlucky raider.

“Boom he goes,” Nick said, yellow eyes narrowed in the dim light.  “Just like I thought.”

“Have I ever told you you’re a little scary?” Nina asked in a whisper.  “Because that was brilliant.  And slightly terrifying.”

“Heh.  Well, you don’t last long as a private eye if you don’t catch on to what others ignore,” he said.  

They stared out at the fire for several long moments, shoulders brushing, wind picking up leaves and dancing them around their feet.  

“Suppose we should get a move on?” Nick asked, looking to her.  

She nodded.  “Yeah, let’s go.”

* * *

 

Sleep didn’t come easily to most in the Wasteland.  He’d seen the same theme over and over again.  People were worried in the daytime, doubly so at night.  Surprise attacks, fire, ghouls - they were all threats.  But from what’d he’d seen, nightmares were the worst enemy.  Tortured by whatever their minds could concoct, humans in the Wasteland spent many a restless night tossing and turning on broken down cots.

He didn’t envy them their nightmares.  

He spent his nights roaming Sanctuary, always on guard.  His eyes were better adapted to the dark than human ones.  He’d told Preston as much when Nina had dragged his sorry ass out of that vault and into her life.  Permanent night watch had been his offer.  And Preston had agreed.  So he cut the same path every night, front to back, along the paths and through overgrown shrubs and gardens between houses.

If Dogmeat was awake, he joined Nick’s nightly march.  Tonight was one of those nights.

“Hey boy,” Nick said as the dog trotted up to him.  Dogmeat wuffed a soft greeting and Nick bent down to pat him on the head.  “How’s life been treating you, fella?”  Dogmeat barked, loud and clear, and Nick chuckled.  “That good, eh?  Nice to hear it.  Well, let’s get a move on then.  Moonlight’s wasting.”

They walked out to the bridge, the only sound coming from the click clack of Dogmeat’s nails on pavement and the soft chug chug chug of machine gun motors. Nick had his gun out, finger near but not on the trigger.  It wasn’t that he didn’t worry about night attacks, but ever since they’d easily handled two raider groups and a super mutant attack in the last month, rumor had spread about their fortifications.

He and Hancock and a few others may have had a hand in spreading those rumors.  They weren’t actually rumors at all, since Nina and Sturges and Preston had seen to their fortifications early on.  And Sturges, ever the tinkerer, had been building new guns and traps ever since.  So he felt a little bit more secure knowing that he wouldn’t have to fend off any would-be attackers on his own.  

He and Dogmeat stood on the bridge for a bit, watching the slow exodus of the river below them.  And then they turned around and went back into the settlement, peeking into shadows and looking around corners for bad guys.

When they reached the house Nina had claimed as hers, he heard a thump. Dogmeat’s ears pricked up and before he could ask the dog what was wrong, Dogmeat raced into the house, paws skidding on the dirty tile floor as he rounded the corner to the hallway.

“Dogmeat, wait up!” Nick said, following.  Dogmeat came right back, bouncing on his paws and dancing in circles.  Nick started to ask again what was going on, but then he heard Nina’s voice.

“No….no, don’t!”

“Shit,” he said, racing down the hallway and into Nina’s room.

The sight of her wrapped tightly in her own blankets made him go cold, like too much coolant had just flushed into his lines.  He lurched forward, eyes scanning her body.

_Shit, her heart rate’s too high.  Need to wake her up._

“Nina, wake up,” he said, sitting on the side of the bed.  He pinned her thrashing frame down, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip. She bucked against him, harder, and he pressed back, wanting to contain her but not leave bruises. “Come on, Nina.  It’s just a nightmare.”

She flailed under his grip, tossing her head back and forth at a neck-cracking pace.  “Come on, sweetheart, I need you to wake up,” he said, panic rising in his voice.  “It’s just a nightmare.  I’m here.”

Nina bucked against him again.  Her eyes shot open and she took a deep breath, gasping like she’d never breathed before.  And while her open eyes made him feel a little better, he didn’t like how distant they were.  He put a hand in front of her face and waved it back and forth.  “I have no idea what I’m doing here, so I need you to work with me.”

Dogmeat jumped on the bed beside them, turning in circles.  He sniffed her face and Nick said, “Thatta boy.  Give her a kiss and see if she wakes up.”

_Oh sure, Valentine, tell the dog to do it for you._

Dogmeat enthusiastically licked Nina’s face, leaving behind a shiny trail of saliva.  She shivered, but she was blinking and her breathing was starting to calm, and Nick hoped that whatever had trapped her in her mind had finally decided to let her go.

He rubbed soothing circles into her shoulder and wrist, talking to her constantly, telling her she was all right and everything would be fine, he just needed her to wake up.  And when she finally did, with a shake of her head and a questioning, “Nick?”, he almost collapsed in relief.

He had a million questions he wanted to ask but right now, the only thing important to him was keeping her close and making sure she was okay.  Nina stayed quiet, choosing to burrow against him, seeking comfort and warmth. He gave off heat better than any human, he knew that much.  And with Dogmeat curled up on the foot of the bed, head resting on his paws, his eyes never straying from them, they were both helping her.

It felt good to help, even if it meant only being there.  Usually people needed him for his detective skills or his gun, or both.  But Nina never asked for anything other than his friendship.  He could be a grumpy old bot, sometimes even with her.  But she never let that bother her.  She would smile at his crotchetiness and slug him in the shoulder and say, “Cheer up, Nick. Tomorrow’s another day.”  And then he’d smile and feel lightheaded, like his feet had been swept out from underneath him.

He valued what he had with her.  That’s what he remembered when his heart fluttered when he saw her or he thought about doing more than holding her hand.

He’d never betray their friendship for something selfish.  She deserved more than a worse for wear synth detective who could never give her….anything much, really.

She shook again, breaking his thoughts, and he gripped her shoulder.  She burrowed deeper, wrapping a leg around his.  So he stayed as still as possible, letting her choose when to come up for air.  He felt every breath, every tremble, and held her tighter.

When she surfaced, she did so by saying in a broken voice, “Are you still here?”

Nick’s heart felt like it could shatter.  He’d read the phrase in books, from dime detective novels to those old stories about smart women and the men they loved and how complicated their feelings could be for each other.  But he’d never felt it more apropos than right now.  “Yeah, doll, I’m here,” he said quietly.  “So is Dogmeat.  He’s keeping your feet warm.”

Dogmeat whined softly and nudged one of her boots with his snout.  “Good boy,” she whispered and peeked out of Nick’s coat.  “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know you needed help.”

She blinked a few times then looked up at him with bleary eyes.  “You’re too good to me.”

“Nah.  Just someone who can’t stand to see his friend in pain.”

Silence lapsed around them.  Dogmeat put his head back on his paws, watching them closely.  Nina sighed, resting her cheek on his thigh.  And he kept holding her, waiting.

For what he wasn’t completely sure.  He figured he’d know it when it appeared.

She must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew, she’d gone limp on him.  The hand resting on his other leg eventually uncurled, her long fingers splayed right where his knee joint was.  She slept quietly this time, no twitching or moaning.  He let her rest, waiting for sunup, hoping tomorrow she’d want to talk.

He didn’t want to go through another night like this, even if it meant never getting to hold her this close again.

* * *

 

“Nick, you look troubled.  Are you okay?”

Nick fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette pack.  “Yeah, I’m good.  Just wish we weren’t sitting around waiting for the next attack.”

Nina looked at the tiny settlement squashed between alleys in the middle of downtown Boston.  A few settlers had straggled in after she and Nick had gotten rid of the resident raiders, but it was still lacking the feeling of home.  Or even safety.  She sighed and readjusted her sea captain’s hat.  “I can’t leave until this place is fortified.  And the supply caravans move slowly, especially down here.  So we wait.  I need those gears and springs and steel -”

He held up a hand.  “I know.  Just ignore me.”  He looked up at the second story she and Codsworth had finished building that afternoon, the cheery string lights reflecting off her armor.  “It’s looking good.  You’ve got room for more beds.  That should attract settlers.”

“They won’t stay if we don’t build turrets,” she replied, whipping the hat off in frustration.  “And I can’t blame them.  Who can sleep when they aren’t sure if they’re safe?”

“Hey,” Nick said in what he hoped was a soothing tone.  “This place looks great already.  And people will find it because you put a beacon up.  Don’t worry.”

She gave him just the barest hint of a smile.  “If only the world could be cured by a well placed ‘Don’t worry’.”  At his confused look, she replied, “I’m not mocking you, Nick.  Just feeling...nostalgic, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”  He pushed the brim of his own hat back to better look at her.      

Nina leaned back on her arms, head tilting to look up at the rusted metal ceiling sheltering the little shack they’d been sitting in.  It wasn’t even a shack, more like a hallway, just barely big enough to fit two halfway clean mattresses. They were sitting in the doorway, close enough that her arm brushed his every time she moved.  

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that little spark of contact every few minutes.

“Nights like this were the best,” she said softly.  “The cool air, the darkness. Nate and I would go for walks around the neighborhood.  You know that hill behind Sanctuary?”

Nick nodded.  “The one where it the Vault is now?”

“Yeah, that one.  Well, before the Vault was there, that was our hill.”  She smiled.  “Our nightly walks always ended there.  The highest point around and the best place to look up at the stars.”  She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, tipping her head up again to look out past the roof of the alcove.  “Think we could see the stars tonight?”

Nick looked up with her.  “Maybe if we climb high enough, get past the radiation and light pollution.”

She shot him a grin.  “Then let’s do it.”

He was hauled to his feet by a grip powered by enthusiasm.  “We’re in the middle of the city, how -”

“Oh, come on,” she replied as she drug him with her.  “Don’t be a spoilsport, Nick.”

He scoffed.  “Never been a spoilsport in my life.”

“Then don’t start now.”

_Hard to argue with that._

They wound up on top of a depressing slapdash of a building.  He thought it used to be some kind of office building or something equally mundane.  Super Mutants had added a dizzying array of floors and walls from scrap metal.  But they’d cleared the building weeks ago and no new tenants had taken the space yet.

“Glad we don’t have to fight our way through here again,” Nick muttered as they climbed.

“I’ve had Deacon keeping an eye on the building since then,” she replied, huffing a bit as she went up a particularly steep ramp.  “The Railroad doesn’t like to use big buildings for hideouts but it could work for a cache.”

“Seems like a risk.  I’m surprised they'd take it.”

“All they _do_ is take risks.  For other people.”

“For synths.”

“Same thing, Nick.  You don’t think so?”

Something twinged in his wiring, a spark that made him flinch.  “I don’t…..I don’t know.”

She stopped and wheeled to face him.  “I know I say this a lot but you are a person, Nick.  Synth, human, we’re all real.  We all have feelings and hopes and fears.”  She touched his exposed metal hand with a finger.  “Metal, bone, doesn’t matter.”

That drew him up short.  He wasn’t prepared to have a philosophical conversation about the nature of being or what was human but when she talked to him like that, he believed.  He believed he was real.  She wove her words with a power that he couldn’t deny.

“Go on,” he said gruffly.  “Let’s get to the top and see if the trip was worth it.”  

She smiled and went back to leading them up through the building.

They hit the top of the last ramp, their footfalls clanging against the rusted metal.  “My god,” Nina said in a hushed voice.  “I knew it’d be pretty but I didn’t think…”

“You can actually see the sky from up here,” he said, dazed.  “I remember this.  I know this.”

Nina turned to him, her eyes wide with wonder.  “Old Nick?”

He nodded.  “Yeah, he and Jenny….they used to…”

She smiled softly in acknowledgment.  Something passed between them.  An understanding.  A shared history.  Or maybe it was simply the recognition that even in the Wasteland, things could still hold beauty.  

Maybe it was all of those things.  Nick wasn’t sure.  And he was okay with not having a proper answer.

Some things didn’t require answers.  He’d learned early on that in the detective gig, some cases had neat answers, some had hard ones, and others were left as mysteries.  He’d never been a big fan of the unsolved, but every now and then, no answer meant he was left to wonder.  And people, hell, they never had answers.  Lots of questions, more than was probably healthy, but rarely any answers.

That was one of the things he liked most about Nina. She sought answers, chased them with a relentlessness that only matched his own.  They shared that urge to chase and find, to hunt and seek out.  

He followed Nina to the edge of the roof, sitting beside her on a flat, wide beam, their backs to a rather hastily constructed wall.   _Probably to shade from the sun. Even Super Mutants can’t withstand all that UV light day in and day out._  “Hell of a view,” he said, leaning back on his hands.

She followed suit, tipping her head up to gaze out at the pinprick-spotted darkness.  “That’s an understatement.”  She smiled, then leaned over to push on the brim of his hat with a finger.  “Can’t see the stars if that’s in the way.”

He stayed very still, letting the warmth of her steal over him, letting her sink into his damaged skin and down through his frame and wires.  She scooted closer to him and linked her arm through his.  “Trying to take advantage of a poor old synth?” he joked as she put her head on his shoulder.  

She snorted.  “I don’t think anyone could take advantage of you that you didn’t want to.  So that must mean - “

“Don’t go gettin’ any wise ideas, sweetheart,” Nick said, his voice gravelly.

She raised her head at that, mischief in her eyes.  “Why, Detective Valentine! You cad!”

He chuckled, trying not to smile.  “Not me, missy.  I’m just a detective.  You’ll find no cad here.”

She laughed, the sound bright against the blackness.  “I bet I could prove you wrong.”

“Oh, you could, eh?”

She snuggled closer.  “Just waiting for my chance.”

They sat in silence for a while, heads tilted to the sky.  Nick wasn’t sure what to make of her last comment.  She flirted with him, but she flirted with everyone. It was part of her charm, how she handled the brusqueness of the Commonwealth.  It was one of the other things Nick admired about her, beyond her need for answers and her kindness and her willingness to run into the fire for a complete stranger.

She sure wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met.

“You’re awful quiet over there,” he finally said.  “Something on your mind?”

“Everything,” came her reply.  “These stars.  Nate.  My old life.  Shaun.”  A pause and then.  “The war.  The bomb.”

“Awful lot to have weighing on you.”  He wanted to ask about the nightmare he’d witnessed.  It was right there, the question begging to slip out.

“I dream about the bomb.  All the time.”  She shifted against him, unlinking her arm from his and turning her body so she could face him.  “I close my eyes and I see us running up the hill.  Nate was in Shaun’s arms.  Shaun was crying, Nate was trying to calm him down.  And then we hit the Vault platform with some of our neighbors.”  She looked down at her hands, then back up at him, eyes bright.  “We were so scared.”  

An unbidden shiver rattled his spine.  “I can imagine.”

She shook her head.  “It’s not the same kind of fear when you think a raider might shoot you in the head.  That’s a reality of this life.”  She turned her gaze out to the landscape.  “But the bomb falling, that felt like….God, like a bad dream.  Like some sci-fi nightmare they’d cooked up for late night TV.  You’d watch it and shudder and say things like, ‘Good thing that will never happen’.  And then you go to bed with your honey and wake up to sunshine and coffee and bacon.”  Her hand sought his and he took it.  Her thumb worried the point where his pulse would have been, if he had one.  “Does that make sense?”

He nodded.  It did.  There was fear, a dark, tangling thing that usually prevented you from doing something stupid or life threatening.   _Go down the dark hole, or stay out in the sunlight?  Chase the bad guys down that alley, or wait for them to come out into the street?  Sneak, or charge in?_

And then there was terror.  Paralyzing, brain-numbing.  The kind of thing perseveres once fear is gone.  It lingers, waits, hidden in some dark recess of your mind.

He didn’t know fear.  Or terror.  But real Nick had.  He’d been scared of losing Jenny, and of leaving her alone in the big, bad world.  But he’d been terrified after she’d died of what would happen.  What he might do.

_Do I find Winter and kill him?  Or do I leave that to my buddies in blue and grieve properly?_

_Is there a way to grieve properly?  Shit, I don’t know._

The thoughts rose in Nick’s mind and he flinched and hissed against them. Nina’s hand tightened in his.  “Nick?”

“I’m okay,” he said gruffly.  “Just….remembering things.”

“Old Nick’s things?”

“Yeah.”  He sighed, drew their linked hands into his lap.  “About Jenny.”

“Shit.  I’m so sorry.”

He instantly felt guilty.  Why was she expressing remorse for him?  She was the one who’d had her entire life- hell, her entire _time_ \- ripped from her.  He felt for her, deeper than anything he’d ever experienced through his own yellow eyes.  She’d seen the world blow apart and reformed.  She’d seen her loved ones die.  Disappear.  Become so much ash like the trees and houses and skyscrapers.

He felt everything, all at once, a bullet of emotion that punched through him.  

The sky was starry, the night cool, and he had a beautiful, whip-smart gal next to him.  If this was any other time than now, any other place than the Wasteland, he would have been happy.

But happy doesn’t happen in a world like this.  You dig out what you can and hold onto it until your fingers bled.  And you kept holding.   

_Is this right?  Is it supposed to hurt like this?_

And that was what had him grabbing her other hand, nearly drawing her into his lap.  “Don’t apologize to me, Nina,” he said, rough voice even rougher. “Never to me.”

“Nick,” she said, shocked, “what are you -”

“There’s a lot going on up here right now,” and he tapped a metal finger against his temple.  “I’m not sure what to make of all of it.  But I know I’m confused.  I know I’m feeling a lot of things that haven’t come up before.”  He leaned closer and pressed his forehead against hers.  “And I know that’s because of you.”

Her breath left in a rush. He felt it against his cheek, warm and sweet.  “It’s this damn world,” she said.  “Ripping people apart and bringing them together.”  She pulled back to look at him.  “I’m just glad it found time to put us together.”

He smiled, a one-sided thing that stretched the damaged skin on his face. “Just remind me to not play the damsel in distress again.  I’m not fond of enclosed spaces or being held captive.”

“Not while I’m around,” she said, voice softer now.  “Are you going to be okay?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

She flicked a finger against the brim of his hat, tipping it backward. “Just don’t go anywhere for a bit.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”


End file.
